


Last Night

by Jacqualine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 21:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacqualine/pseuds/Jacqualine
Summary: Sansa and Theon spend their last hours together before the Battle for Winterfell





	Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> My First GOT fanfic, first fanfic in years. Not even a Sansa/Theon shipper but this just spoke to me.

She tried to tell herself it was because she had no one else to spend her final hours with. Bran was wooden and spoke in riddles, she would find no comfort with him. Jon was preoccupied with the battle to come and his Dragon Queen, they would spend their final moments together. And Arya, whom she had only just rediscovered and learned to truly love and respect for all her outlandish differences from Sansa, Arya was like a shadow and couldn't be found unless she wanted to be. So Sansa thought she had settled with Theon in those last possible precious moments of life. But deep down inside she knew she was lying to herself. She could have easily found Brienne or Davos, even Tyrion would have had many stories to entertain her with and some wise comforting words. And her people, she could have rechecked on the supplies, the plans, the safety of all those that were now seeking to protect and be protected by the walls of Winterfell, but she was with Theon.

Although a table separated them, while they ate, the table itself seemed tiny, and he was so close she could feel his heat, it was cold, winter had come and she could feel waves of heat from him that seemed to flush her face and permeate her heavy cloak and dress. He didn't smile easily anymore, didn't hold her gaze for more than a second or two. Gone was the strutting youth, who preened and made bold statements and often flirted with her when she was a young girl. She supposed the two people who once knew each other and grew up together were both dead, replaced by different people, people who had suffered and survived a monster. Before they escaped Ramsay, when she would beg Reek to help her, she had been so desperate for help and yet ashamed at the same time to see him, to acknowledge him. He had witnessed her wedding night rape, he had witnessed so many other vile acts and tortures Ramsay had committed on her. And she had learned what Ramsay had done to Theon, Ramsay loved to divulge these acts to her, especially when he was on top of her, inside of her. "I took his cock and balls. Sliced them clean off with a dirty hunting knife." While he took Sansa in a place she didn't know a man could or would go, searing pain, ripping and tearing through her. She didn't know if she cried more for herself or Theon that night. But he had saved her, somewhere inside of Reek, Theon Greyjoy still existed and had saved her. Running through the woods, the two of them desperate to stay alive, and they had. Brienne and her squire Pod, found them and further saved them, she was delivered to Jon at the wall and he left to join his sister.

When he had appeared at Winterfell her heart had tightened and her stomach had flipped, she could not control her emotions and had run to him, to embrace him, thank him. He had betrayed her family and had paid dearly for it and then repaid the debt again by saving her and was here to continue to pay that debt. And when the Army of the Dead arrived, he and his men would have the sure death sentence of protecting Bran in the Godswood. When he volunteered she wanted to yell "No, let someone else do it." That he should finally be the one protected, but she knew that he felt he had to do it. She couldn't take away any action that may make him feel like a man again. No matter it made her heart pound in her chest and her last meal threaten to make a reappearance, no, Theon needed this.

They finished their meal and a heavy silence filled the air around them, they couldn't hear the laughing, crying, singing and living of the others in the bailey, she could hear his breath, that seemed to hitch everytime their eyes met.

"I suppose, I should try and get some rest before it begins." She finally spoke. He looked up at her, through his unruly head of curls and nodded. "Will you see me safely to my room Theon?" He jumped up quickly, offering his arm and a quiet, "Yes My Lady." It took longer than normal, many people had questions for her along the way, or just wanted to share a story with her. It could be everyone's last night alive and they were all desperate to be heard, be remembered by someone, anyone. Her heart beat harder and her stomach was aflutter with nerves as each step brought them closer to her room. Be brave Sansa, she told herself. 

"Goodnight Lady Sansa, by the Old Gods, we will see each other again." He said softly at her bedchamber door, she thought she saw his eyes shining with unshed tears, he let go of her arm and started to turn away. "Theon." He turned back, "I don't want to be alone." She stated as she opened her door and waited, not breathing for him to make his decision. For the first time since any of this happened, before she left for King's Landing, before the Red Wedding, before Ramsay Snow, he looked directly at her, held her gaze for what felt like an eternity. When he moved past her into the room, she breathed out heavily, with the door shut she locked it and turned to him. 

"I am no maid as you well know." He still held her eyes with his, nodding slightly. "But it was painful, and terrifying and before I die, I would ask you for something else, something kind and gentle."

"Sansa, I..." He started to respond. 

"Theon, I know you can't...get a child on me, but could you hold me and kiss me, please." The Lady of Winterfell shouldn't beg but she didn't care, it was her last night and she just wanted to feel safe and special and like a woman should. He seemed to understand what she needed and went to her, reaching out and slowly stroking her hair with both hands, she could see they were trembling. She caught one hand then and slowly brought it to her mouth, kissing the skin where fingers used to be and looking at him. That seemed to be his undoing and he pulled her against him and kissed her softly, just trailing his lips over hers, when she mewled in pleasure, he slipped his tongue between her lips and she felt a warmth, heavy and damp between her thighs. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body to his, his hands were in her hair and his lips and tongue were making her moan, she should have been embarrassed by her noises but Theon had seen her at her very lowest and didn't judge her, she knew he wouldn't now. 

 

She broke off the kiss and smiled at him, "I didn't know it could be like that." She admitted, almost panting. She was no maid, she knew the mechanics of how it all worked but she had never realized that she could feel this way. Trembly, shivery and needy, she wanted him to do the things that Ramsay had but without the pain. "Sansa, there is more we can do, even though I haven't got a c..." He started to tell her. Her smile widened and she nodded. "May I take off your dress, my Lady?"

"Yes, Theon." She whispered, shy again, he knew she was marked and scarred, had witnessed her indignities, smelled the scent of her burning flesh, but she was going to stand before him as a woman would her husband, her lover and she was afraid he would be disgusted. He knew of course, knew her fears, shared them, and blew out several candles so there were only two of them and the glow from the fireplace to light them and the room. He stood behind her and began to undo the laces of her heavy gown, moving her hair over one shoulder, she jumped when she felt his first kiss on her back as more laces were undone. She didn't jump again as more kisses followed, lower each time. When the dress was fully undone, he pushed it slowly down over her shoulders, stopping to kiss and gently bite each one, Sansa forbid herself from remembering how much Ramsay loved to bite her, making her bleed, claiming he loved the taste of wolf flesh, and then the dress was off her top half and she helped him push it down over her hips to a heavy puddle on the floor. She stepped out of it then and turned to face him, wearing only her heavy woolen hose and winter boots. "You're beautiful." He whispered and she believed him, when he said it. 

 

He kissed her again, her breasts pressed up against his rough clothes and leather jerkin, and she realized she wanted to feel his skin. Still kissing him, she reached to undo his cloak, letting that fall on the floor with her dress, she undid the stays on his jerkin and together they pulled that off over his head and with trembling hands she began to undo his shirt, when that came off she looked at him and told him he was beautiful as well. He was still thinner than he had been, but he was well defined and no longer gaunt, shiny scars seemed to glow brighter in the firelight. She held back a frown at a particularly nasty one that seemed to run the length of his torso, flayed by Ramsay, but she wasn't disgusted by the scars, she was angry, no one should have to live with this. Feeling bold she leaned over and kissed the top of the scar, and traced the length of it with her tongue, he tasted slightly salty but she could also taste a hint of some sort of soap, lavender perhaps. "I fed him to his own dogs." She told him, looking up at him, her face close to his navel. He smiled down at her and nodded, stoking the side of her face before pulling her up to him and kissing her again, more forcefully this time. He guided her backward to the bed and when her legs hit it, he broke off the kiss and motioned for her to sit down, then he knelt and began to remove her boots, Once they were off he pressed her shoulders, urging her to lay back and he began to remove her hose. She took a deep breath and lifted her bottom so he could pull them down, smiling at the shock in his eyes when she wore no small clothes under the hose. They bunched up too much and caused her to be very uncomfortable, so when wearing the hose, she went without the small clothes. When her legs were finally free, he stood and kicked off his own boots and laid down next to her on the bed, not touching but just staring at her, for a long time before letting his eyes move down to her breasts and the small mound of red hair between her legs. "Theon, there may not be much time left." She prompted, always aware the Army of the Dead approached. 

 

He kissed her then, deep and slowly, their breath mingled and they both softly groaned, his hand slid along her skin, touching arms, and stomach and thighs before cupping her breast. His mouth moved down to her neck and kissed and sucked, leaving a mark, smiling against it. His thumb stroked the nipple of one breast, while his mouth dropped kisses on the other before he took the nipple in his mouth. Sansa gasped at the feeling and felt a new hot spurt in her privates, and instinctively squeezed her legs together to alleviate the pressure. While Theon nipped and sucked on her breasts, his hand moved down her stomach and her legs spread open to him without her even thinking about it. How she had become such a wanton woman after a few kisses almost made her laugh. But when his hand began to explore her folds and nub, she lost all thought. Her hips bucked, she bit her lip to keep from crying out, and she gripped his shoulders so hard she was sure she was leaving bruises. His kissed her lips again, while his hand continued to pleasure her, she could feel something building in her, a tightening, tickling, pressure that was building deep inside of her and sending out shocks and jolts of pleasure to her legs and body. "Theon?" She gasped, not sure if this was normal. 

"Let go Sansa." He whispered against her lips and then raised his head to watch her as the pressure released and she fell over the edge. Her nails dug into his skin and her back arched and her eyes closed and she cried out loudly, followed up by "Fuck" which caused Theon to chuckle lightly at her use of such a strong work. Before she could float back to the bed, aftershocks still coursing through her body, he moved down the bed to her spread legs and lifted each one over his shoulders and like a starving man, he began to feast. If she thought his hand had been pleasurable, his tongue down there made her incoherent. She lost all sense of time, propriety, she would recall telling him to not stop licking, many days later and blush through a sad smile, and just let herself feel the ecstasy. When he final finished, leaving her with legs made of jelly and a body too weak to hold a pillow, tears, running from her eyes into her hair and a huge smile on her face, he gathered her in his arms and held her close, kissing the top of her head as she snuggled in. "Is it like that everytime?" She asked with wonder.

"Not always, My Lady." He admitted. She had a million more questions to ask him but the horns sounded, they froze for a moment before scrambling out of bed and began dressing. As Theon helped her with the laces on her dress she looked over her shoulder, "Thank you Theon. It was wonderful. Better than any songs or stories suggested."

"I should thank you Lady Sansa."

"Thank me? Why?" She wondered, he hadn't had any pleasure and she felt guilty about it now, even while she still had a throbbing between her legs. 

"Thank you for making me feel like a man, one last time." He told her, kissed her once more, gently and then moved to leave. 

"I'll look for you when this is done." She told him and he just nodded and with a final look at her. he left.

The End


End file.
